


This Beat

by MissGryz



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, I'll figure it out sooner or later I'm sure, Idk how to tag things, M/M, That's basically it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGryz/pseuds/MissGryz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pooniverse/jokerita, inediblesushi, and iLuciinati/beardysteve are to blame for this. Also, I haven't written a story/fic in like 5 years so this is probably super rough but whatever! It was fun! And I wrote it for people!</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Beat

There's a lot to the future that definitely differs from what Steve is used to – the clothes, the technology, the lingo – but the music… The music is something else. Loud, heavy, almost hard, in a way. It’s taken Steve some time to get used to it, and although it isn’t his preferred genre, there’s something strangely alluring to the whole ‘dance music’ thing.

Even if the ‘dancing’ he sees seems to be anything but.

The club Natasha has decided on is entirely unlike the sort of places he and Bucky used to frequent. It’s impossibly dark, dotted with colorful lights shifting in time with the heavy bass thrumming throughout. The number of people wandering the bar and dance floor easily outnumbers what he’s used to. Even from where he’s leaning against the bar top, it’s almost impossible not to come in contact with someone entirely on accident.

Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, considering that someone is Bucky more often than not.

Even if it’s just to make room for those around them, he isn’t about to complain when the brunet presses closer, Bucky’s right arm in contact with Steve’s left. Sam and Natasha had left them to their own devices a short while ago, disappearing into the sea of people before them. Normally Steve wouldn’t mind too much. He’s gotten used to navigating all sorts of situations on his own. But there’s something about having Bucky so close, with the music blaring so loudly, that has him on edge.

Especially when Bucky presses even closer, like he is now. Head cocked to the side so he can speak into Steve’s ear, the music so loud it makes regular conversation difficult to manage.

“I can kinda see why people like it,” Bucky says, lips so close Steve can feel the heat of his breath against his skin.

“Huh?” Steve says, glancing at him curiously. 

“The dancing,” Bucky explains, motioning toward the people before them with a nod of his head, and Steve follows his gaze.

Personally, the blonde doesn’t see a lot of what’s going on out there as dancing. Some of it looks a little too intimate to be something that should even happen in public. It makes him uncomfortable in a way he can’t necessarily describe. Probably because, if he’s honest with himself, it seems like a lot of fun, if done with the right person. His mind travels to the thought of swaying with the brunet beside him, close and intimate, pressed without an inch of space between them, and Steve feels his cheeks flush with warmth. Thank god for the lack of proper lighting.

“I guess?” Steve responds as he brings his drink to his lips. “I don’t get it, personally.”

“Doesn’t seem to be much to get with some of it,” Bucky says with a shrug, gaze still fixated on the dance floor, and though things might have changed and left them both different from who they used to be, Steve sees a familiar look flicker across the other man’s face. Steve feels disappointment blossom within him – a familiar sensation, one he experienced time and again when Bucky would win a girl over and pull her into a dance.

Steve nearly feels guilty about it. Considering everything that’s happened, Bucky has come a long way to becoming his own person again, some of his old habits remaining while others have disappeared entirely. Hell, the fact that Bucky even agreed to go to such a loud, busy place just goes to show how far he’s come. Even though Steve’s sure the brunet is more than aware of his surroundings and constantly on the look-out, there isn’t an obvious tense hold to his body anymore. If anything, Bucky looks calm; relaxed in a way he seem to be more often than not these days. Steve should be happy, really, that Barnes would be willing to interact with the general populous on such a level. Steve should be happy that, despite everything, there’s still something of the man Bucky used to be lingering within the man he’s become.

But Steve isn’t quite sure he can deal with watching Bucky dance with someone like _that_.

Bucky tilts his head, slamming back the rest of his beer, and Steve can’t help but look at the long arch of his neck and the way his throat bobs as he swallows. The blonde quickly tears his gaze away when Bucky places the empty bottle on the bar top.

“C’mon, come dance with me,” he says, casual like it’s nothing at all, and Steve nearly spits beer all over the poor patrons walking passed them. 

The thing is, it’s not like Bucky hasn’t asked before. Sure, it’s been years, but Bucky has always been light on his feet and elegant in a way Steve could never seem to manage. The brunet had given him countless lessons on various dances in their youth that have stuck, to some extent. But every time it happened, it had been when they were alone. They’ve never really danced in public before, aside from some joking moments when they had been with the Commandos, and especially never in such an intimate way. It honestly doesn’t help that Steve isn’t really much of a dancer, and even if there isn’t much to whatever is going on over there, Steve can’t shake away the feeling that it would be awkward all the same.

Steve barks out a laugh, looking at Bucky incredulously. He isn’t even sure he wants to try. But the thought of being so close to Bucky, swaying together, touching, watching, hidden amongst so many people, lost within the pops of light and darkness, with no one aware of who they are… Maybe Steve wants it a little too much. He just isn’t sure he wants Bucky to know that. 

“What – Buck, I can’t dance to this,” he says instead, shaking his head. 

“Oh, c’mon, some of it doesn’t look that hard. I was watching Sam and Nat out there, seems pretty simple once you get the beat down,” Bucky continues with a snort. Steve’s gaze pulls back to the dance floor – he could make out Sam and Natasha out there? – and doesn’t realize that Bucky has pulled short distance away from the bar to face the blonde. There’s a playful grin on his lips, one that Steve is always so happy to see these days. He almost wants to say yes just so it stays there. “Some of ‘em, you just kinda move your hips in circles, so much easier than what we were doing before,” he explains, the grin on his lips pulling wider as Steve watches him sway to the music, hips moving in slow, exaggerated circles – left, back, right, front, repeat. “See?”

It’s not quite as smooth as some of what Steve has witnessed, but that doesn’t really matter. Steve’s eyes are immediately fixated on the shift of the other man’s hips, the spread of his thighs, the way he can just barely make out the flex of muscles beneath the thin fabric of Bucky’s shirt. Despite all the beer he’s drank, Steve’s mouth feels suddenly dry, and he immediately tries to busy himself with drinking more of his beverage to keep from openly staring at his best friend.

“I don’t know. You look kinda ridiculous,” Steve tries to laugh.

“Ridiculous, huh?” Bucky questions, and whether he shifts closer of his own accord or because people are trying to get passed, Steve has no idea. It doesn’t help the deepening of the blush on the blonde’s cheeks, though. Bucky’s movements are still exaggerated and a little rough, but the narrowing proximity between them is all that stands out in Steve’s mind. He pulls his gaze away to keep from outwardly staring at the brunet’s crotch, hoping he hasn’t been noticed, but one glance at the brunet’s face says otherwise. Bucky’s smirking, incredibly amused, but Steve isn’t sure what to make of the look being focused on him. It’s intense in a way he isn’t sure he’s seen before. “Used to tell me that before, too, but we always ended up dancing together anyway.” Bucky stops, and Steve might just be a little disappointed. But the look on the brunet’s face doesn’t fade, nor does he put any distance between them. It makes Steve feel far too aware of himself. Especially when Bucky leans closer to keep from yelling over the noise, a hand resting on his arm. Steve is far, far too aware of himself and just how close to his ear Bucky’s lips are. “C’mon, Stevie. There’re so many people here, I doubt anyone would notice a couple ‘a guys fucking up on the dance floor.”

Steve supposes he’s right. Everyone seems to be in their own little worlds out there. But he’s far less bothered by the idea of being seen with two left feet than the idea of dancing with Bucky in that way. He doubts he’d be able to brush off his reactions to having the brunet so close so easily. Even if they kept space between them, the movements are alluring and provocative to Steve, sexual in a way that’s begun to be unsurprising to the blonde these days. But in this situation, it’s less the movements themselves than who would be involved. He could barely keep himself from doing something he might possibly regret when Bucky would help him through the steps for swing or the foxtrot.

“Not bad, Barnes!” someone calls out. Natasha appears next to Steve seemingly out of nowhere, looking at the brunet with a pleased grin. Sam follows close behind. Both of them are pleasantly flushed from dancing, bright eyed and pink cheeked. “You should stop hanging around and get out there.”

“I’m trying, but his fella here keeps turning me down,” Bucky says with a nod toward the blonde. Steve’s a little dismayed that Bucky has put a bit of distance between them. His hand, however, doesn’t move from Steve’s arm.

“I don’t really think this is my thing,” Steve says, hoping the shrug he offers doesn’t look as stiff as he feels.

“Won’t know unless you give it a try,” Natasha offers.

“I don’t even know where to start. I haven’t danced like this before,” he continues. Steve looks at Sam in confusion when his drink is suddenly plucked from his hand, then small, firm hands are gripping and pulling at his arm, then pressing and pushing at his back.

“Looks like Barnes has the basics,” Sam says with a wide smile. Natasha offers a wink. Steve’s fairly certain his cheeks are a bright red. “I’m sure you guys can figure it out!”

“Let’s go, Stevie!” Bucky shouts happily. His flesh hand grips at Steve’s wrist, rough heat that tugs him toward the dance floor, and the blonde feels his nervousness increase ten-fold.

It’s strange: there are so many things in his life that should make him a hell of a lot more nervous than the idea of dancing with Bucky currently does. But it’s honestly not that surprising if he thinks about it. Steve has adored the brunet for as long as he can remember. He’s almost slipped up a few times: gaze lingering for longer than necessary; embraces incredibly close and lasting for extended periods of time; touches that might, if one really paid it any mind, seem more than a little friendly.

When Bucky fell, Steve regretted every moment he had started to silently search for an answer only to pull back. 

When Bucky came back, the only thing Steve wanted was for Bucky to find confidence in himself again and figure out just who he is. That’s still all Steve really wants.

He isn’t sure just what will happen between them if he slips up.

And as Steve is pulled to the floor, Bucky giving a cursory glance around before catching the blonde’s attention with another grin, Steve finds it harder and harder to push aside his nerves like he does when he’s swinging his fists and throwing his shield.

Especially when Bucky suddenly stands right in his personal space, a hand on Steve’s arm and his lips near the blonde’s ear once again.

“Just watch me for a sec, ok?” Bucky offers. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down Steve’s spine.

“What, you suddenly an expert?” Steve shoots back, and damn the rough laugh that greets him.

“Nah, but I got the gist of it,” the brunet chuckles, pulling back. Steve immediately misses their close proximity, but Bucky doesn’t go far. In fact, he barely moves at all, and there’s something to the look he flashes the blonde that Steve can’t quite figure out. Barnes takes a few moments to listen to the music and Steve watches the way his body seems to ease the longer he listens, becoming lose, limber. 

Suddenly, Steve feels awkward; exposed and out of place just staring at Bucky as the man’s hips began to roll in time with the music. Whether or not anyone notices the way his eyes seem to bulge out of his head at the absolutely sinful way Bucky’s hips move, Steve quickly doesn’t care. He tells himself that the brunet won’t notice that Steve is more than enjoying the sight before him, not actually paying attention to how he should move more so than just thanking God and everyone that such a dance exists. It’s not even much of one, but the direction Steve’s thoughts go and the way Bucky looks doing it… Steve isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to close his eyes again without this image coming to mind. And he might feel a little guilty about it, lusting after his best friend as he is, but one could hardly blame him if they could see Barnes for themselves.

A hand suddenly smacks into his shoulder. Steve’s pulled from his thoughts with a flare of warmth at his cheeks when he notices Bucky has stopped moving. He feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, like all of his thoughts are out in the open for Barnes to see. But Bucky’s expression is amused, a soft laugh spilling between parted lips.

“You’re not gonna pick it up if you’re just gonna keep staring, pal,” he jests. “Gotta give it a shot yourself.”

Steve shrugs. “Just seems kinda awkward, is all.” That and he just really, really enjoys seeing Bucky do it himself. He really wouldn’t mind watching for a while longer.

“Excuses,” Bucky shoots back with a shake of his head.

Steve nearly gasps when hands suddenly settle on his hips. Metal and flesh both almost seem too hot against his skin, searing through the fabric of his shirt and jeans. He glances at Bucky, his cheeks still flushed red in the low light of the club, and sees a grin still settled on the brunet’s lips.

“Here,” Bucky starts as he leans closer to be heard over the music. “Lemme help with that.”

Steve’s almost too strung up to follow his instructions. He’s suddenly incredibly aware of how close they are: Steve’s legs slotted between the brunet’s own, brushing together as they move; where Bucky’s hands have settled on his hips, strong and firm as he guides the blonde’s hips in slow circles; gray eyes focused entirely on the blonde’s hips as Steve’s are focused on Bucky’s own; hot puffs of breath against his skin as Bucky leans closer to laugh, tell him to loosen up, ease up, don’t think so hard. Maybe if Barnes wasn’t so insanely close, Steve would be able to. He isn’t even sure what to do with his hands, both hovering in the air awkwardly or hanging at his sides. Steve feels all sorts of out of place. Like he stands out like a sore thumb.

“C’mon, really, I know you’re not this stiff,” Bucky laughs, jostling Steve’s waist lightly within his hands. The movement shouldn’t send a tremor of warmth through him like it does.

“It just… seems awkward,” Steve repeats, only to be met with a laugh once more.

“No one’s payin’ any attention, c’mon,” the brunet chuckles. “Keep goin’. You’re gettin’ it. Just gotta loosen up a little more.”

One more glance at Bucky says the man’s not about to let Steve go so easily. Taking a deep breath, Steve sighs heavily, then nods.

It takes some time, one song leading into the next, before Steve feels like he’s getting the hang of it. Bucky’s voice is in his ear all the while, correcting him here and there, praising him when he starts to get the hang of it. Steve doesn’t even realize when his partner is no longer speaking, so focused on what he’s doing. The hands on Steve’s hips have loosened enough that they’re no longer assisting, and the distance between them has closed even more, if anything.

When he finally glances at the brunet’s face, Steve can’t help the shuddered breath that slips passed his lips. Bucky is entirely focused on the blonde’s hips, teeth biting on his bottom lip, completely unaware he’s being watched. Steve’s hesitance and uncertainty begins to give way at the sight of him and slowly, cautiously at first, he brings his hands up to run along Bucky’s arms. The touch stirs the brunet from his thoughts, eyes snapping to Steve’s own, and the blonde can practically the feel the apprehension there.

As if he’s been caught doing something Steve hasn’t been doing himself since Barnes had started. Something that Steve has done for as long as Bucky’s been dancing and the blonde’s been watching on the sidelines. Just because Steve has never really been one for dancing doesn’t mean he’s never appreciated what going out dancing with Bucky meant. Barnes was always a sight to behold.

But this is definitely something else entirely. Dancing so closely, watching each other move, amongst a sea of people barely sparing them a glance. It sends a thrill through the blonde.

Steve feels the hands at his hips grip just a little tighter when his own slide along Bucky’s arms and shoulders. He rests his arms there, hands dangling behind the brunet, and feels Bucky tug just the smallest bit forward, as if asking Steve a silent question. The blonde answers by stepping a little closer, only slightly losing his rhythm, but it’s only a second before they’re in sync once more, not that Steve even realized they had fallen out of it. Not when Bucky steps closer himself and suddenly they’re brushing against one another with each movement. Those hands tighten further, sliding back, around Steve’s hips, finger tips pressing against the curve of his ass. Steve can’t tell if he’s blushing even more or if dancing, with all the people surrounding them, is just making him feel even warmer.

There’s the faintest puff of breath at his lips. Steve hadn’t even realized how close they had gotten, but suddenly Bucky is right there, looking at him, around his face, staring at his lips before his eyes flicker to the blonde’s own once more. Steve swallows heavily, let’s out a shuddered breath, and openly stares when he sees the tip of Bucky’s tongue wetting his lips, the brunet’s eyes trailing down the length of his body, pausing at his hips. Steve can’t even think straight in the face of everything he’s experiencing, surprised he’s even able to keep moving with any semblance of rhythm, but it’s hard not to when the last thing he wants to do is stop. Not when he has Bucky’s hands on him, all of him right there, so close, his eyes never once looking away. It’s the way Steve’s always wanted Bucky to look at him, but had never wanted to risk ruining their friendship to chance it.

His fingers slip through Bucky’s hair, a small, gentle movement, and Steve feels the way the other man’s breath hitches against his lips. Bucky’s hands grip harder, and if Steve had half a mind to be aware of what was going on, he’d probably be embarrassed by the scene they’re currently making. It isn’t much of one, all things considered, not when there are so many others around them in various stages of dancing-progressing-into-something-not-quite-dancing, but it’s unlike anything he’s been involved in before, especially in public. But Steve finds himself unable to care. Not when Bucky’s eyes snap back to his own, focused on him and only him, red lips parted as though Barnes is in awe of it all.

And, damn, but their lips are close. Steve’s beyond sure that, if he leaned forward just a little more, he’d feel Bucky’s lips against his own. The thought is just as unbelievably exciting as it is nerve wrecking. Again, Steve sees the pink of Bucky’s tongue brush against his lower lip. Steve swallows heavily, biting down on his own, and, somehow, the sight of it seems to jar Bucky from his own thoughts. As if it was some sort of signal. Barnes grins, a soft curve at one corner of his lips, and that seems to shake them loose of the silence that had settled between them. Bucky’s hands slide further around the curve of his hips to grab more of his ass, prompting a laugh from the blonde. His lips run along the smooth skin of Steve’s jaw, and Steve would almost feel embarrassed by how the touch leaves him weak in the knees if he wasn’t far more interested in how the movement presses Bucky’s body closer to his own.

“Dancin’ now ‘a’ days ain’t so bad, huh?” Bucky asks, and Steve laughs again, his own lips brushing against the brunet’s ear as he speaks.

“I think I’m startin’ to see what’s so good about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> So that was a thing.
> 
> WOWEE.


End file.
